29/07/2017

MORE TROUBLE IN STORE

'Once he'd emptied the Children's Complimentary Fruit Box,' the security lady continued, 'he was seen to proceed to the Bakery Department where he was observed licking a number of the iced doughnuts on display, and eating two Cream Slices and half a Finest* Danish Pastry!'

'Oh dear!' I replied, 'Naturally I will pay for any damage or spoiled goods. As you know, this is totally out of character for Wilson, but I'm afraid he's having quite a difficult time dealing with some recent bad news. Would £10 cover everything – and an apology from W, of course?'


'Not quite,' she replied. 'There is one more expensive – and serious – item to consider. So serious that we're considering informing the Police about it...'


I cut her off before she could continue, saying. 'Wait there – I'm on my way!'


Hanging up the phone, I jumped into the car and drove straight round to the store...



28/07/2017

TROUBLE IN STORE

Wilson has popped into the Village to do some shopping in Tesco.

He'd only been gone 45 minutes or so, when I received a telephone call. From Security.


Apparently he'd been observed eating all the fruit from the 'Help Yourself: Free Fruit for Kids' display.


All the staff at Tesco know Wilson, so I protested that surely this was a minor misdemeanour; all he'd done was exceed the recommended number of items.


The Security Person cut me short. With a sigh, she said that unfortunately there was more. 


Quite a LOT more...


27/07/2017

AUGUST CALENDAR

Wilson, despite still being in the grip of a troubling Identity Crisis, is well aware of his obligations to his friends.

Therefore, bravely putting aside his personal pain, he has just produced the August page of your FREE 2017 Calendar PartWork.


The picture shows Wilson playing with Byron – in happier times when he believed young Byron was his half-brother rather than, as it shockingly turned out, his UNCLE!



26/07/2017

ACTING OUT

Acting Out is a psychological term meaning (and I paraphrase here) being uncharacteristically naughty because you're hurting inside and don't know how to express your pain.

So I wasn't unduly surprised to receive a call from our neighbours round the corner telling me that Wilson was spray-painting on the wall opposite them.


I understand perfectly well that W is very upset by recent events, but I can't let this go unremarked upon, so I tackled him about it as soon as he returned. At first he denied anything to do with graffiti, but honestly, the evidence does not support his protestations of innocence.


We had a serious talk about the unacceptability of damaging other peoples' property, agreed that he would clean it off, and I don't think he'll do it again. 


Once we'd finished our discussion, he asked me to confirm that, in spite of my upbringing, I was NOT a Serial Killer, nor a top Rock Guitarist. I confirmed that I was neither... though admitted I wouldn't have minded the Rock Guitarist thing. This can apparently make one quite popular with the ladies!


Later on I shall try to teach him some healthy coping skills.



24/07/2017

IDENTITY CRISIS

The ants started to crawl off the plate of scones, but Wilson was oblivious to them. 

I tried to comfort him by explaining, 'Many famous people thought their actual mum was their sister – the actor Jack Nicholson, for example, and the brilliant Rock guitarist Eric Clapton!' 


'Serial killer Ted Bundy!' he replied, 'I looked it up.'


'Then you'll have found singer-songwriter-actor Bobby Darin?' I asked.


'I found multi-murder Fred West!' he countered.


'Have you heard of Nobel Prize winner Sir Paul Nurse?' I asked, 'He only found out the truth when he was 58!'


Wilson just sighed and closed his eyes. I decided it was time to play my Ace Card. 


'Hey, matey, you trust me, don't you?' I asked. 'You know I'm not a serial killer. And yet I am very like you – I thought my Mum was my sister until I was more than twice your age!'


'You're just saying that to make me feel better!' he replied wearily.


'No Wilson, I assured him, 'I'm truly not!'


His tongue flicked out to catch an escaping ant, on which he began to chew thoughtfully...



23/07/2017

WILSON TELLS ALL

I asked Wilson whether he'd like Antony, his soft toy, for comfort, but he squeezed his eyes shut and whispered, 'I couldn't bear the humiliation of Antony knowing the truth about me...' 

After a few minutes, he began to tell me what had happened.


His Big Sister, Andrea, had taken him aside and told him that his Mum, Mrs Vermilingua, wasn't exactly his mum. In the biological sense. She, Andrea, was his mum. 


'I'm adopted!' he wailed, 'And I didn't even know! Everyone has been lying to me all my life, and I don't even know who I am any more!'


When he said no more, I ventured, 'Oh Wilson – I'm so sorry. I had no idea. But – I expect there were good reasons...'


He made no reply, so I stroked his head and continued, 'Times were very different when you were born. And there's absolutely NO reason to feel "humiliated".'


Finally I added – with as much conviction as I could muster – 'It's more like you're lucky enough to have TWO mums!'